


Never Enough

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bottom!Stiles, Bruises, M/M, Marking, Rough Sex, Scent Marking, overprotective!Derek, pre-Sterek - Freeform, top!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:18:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**The idea for this fic was born in the Sterek chatroom and is a gift for my friend Moose.**</p><p>Stiles starts a rather physical relationship with the elder Hale.  Derek is less than amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alionheartedhobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alionheartedhobbit/gifts).



> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

Stiles doesn’t know how it started or why, he just knows that fucking Peter Hale is simultaneously the worst and best thing he’s ever done.  He knew taking Peter up on his offer of ‘training’ was a bad idea.  Just like he knew Peter wasn’t really offering to show him how to fight.  It is hand-to-hand, mind you, but not the kind Stiles had in mind.

That was three weeks ago.

Currently, Stiles is standing in front of his bedroom mirror, staring at the bruises covering his chest.  He reaches up to brush his fingertips over the one on his collarbone, pressing just enough to make it ache.  The sound of his dad’s footsteps heading towards his room is enough incentive for Stiles to put his t-shirt on.

He’s still tugging it over his belly when his dad knocks, “Hey, kiddo?”  The bedroom door opens and Stiles looks over, a wide smile plastered across his face.  To say that his father’s expression is surprised, is an understatement.  “You’re up.  I, uh, wasn’t expecting you up this early on a Saturday.”

Stiles shrugs, “I promised Scott I’d help him with some stuff.”

“Ah,” his father tilts his head, “Well you boys stay out of trouble, you hear?”

“Us, trouble?  Never!”  Stiles shoots him a grin and grabs one of his hoodies, wincing slightly as he tries to pull it on.

“You okay?”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, I just landed wrong during lacrosse practice the other day and I must’ve pulled something in my back.  I’ll be fine.”  His dad stares at him, disbelieving at best.  “I’m fine, dad!  Honest.  Just sore.”

The sheriff shakes his head, “All right, if you say so.  Let me know if it doesn’t get better and we can get it checked out, kid.”

Stiles blows out a relieved breath and nods, “Will do, pops.”

His dad points a finger at him and mutters, “ _Don’t_ call me ‘pops,’” before heading downstairs and out the front door.  Stiles chuckles and grabs his phone, checking his messages while he pours a bowl of cereal.  He’s more than a little surprised to see he has two from Derek and one from Peter.

 

**_Message from: Furface        Received: 0843_ **

**_Pack breakfast.  Come over._ **

****

**_Message from: Furface        Received: 0844_ **

**_Or don’t.  Whatever.  Peter said I should invite you._ **

 

Stiles snorts at Derek’s texts -he can just imagine the look on Derek’s face while working his new phone, tongue between his teeth as he works the touchscreen- and flat out laughs at Peter’s.

 

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 0844_ **

**_Ignore him.  My place instead._ **

 

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 0844_ **

**_I have something for you._ **

 

Stiles taps out quick replies and heads out to the Jeep, bowl of cereal forgotten.

 

**_Message to: Furface    Sent: 0859_ **

**_Can’t.  Helping dad w/stuff._ **

 

**_Message to: Skeevy Pete    Sent: 0900_ **

**_U do huh?  Wazzat?_ **

 

He sets his phone on the passenger seat and it instantly beeps at him.

 

**_Message from: Furface    Received: 0900_ **

**_Fine._ **

 

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 0901_ **

**_Come over & find out, Lil Red_ **

 

Stiles rolls his eyes and taps out a response, tossing his phone on the seat before backing out of the driveway.  As tempting as breakfast with a pack of werewolves is, he heads towards Peter’s apartment.  His phone chirps three times in quick succession and Stiles reaches for it.  He peeks down and nearly swerves off the road.

 

**_Message from: Furface    Received: 0906_ **

**_What’s skeevy mean?_ **

 

**_Message from: Furface    Received: 0906_ **

**_Stop for juice.  Erica wants orange pinapple._ **

 

**_Message from: Furface    Received: 0907_ **

**_Oh, btw, how many pancakes do you want?_ **

 

“Shit, shit, SHIT!”  In his rush, Stiles accidently sent Peter’s response…to Derek.  “Dammit!”  Stiles pulls into parking lot and taps out a careful response to both Hales.

 

**_Message to: Furface    Sent: 0910_ **

**_Sry that was for sum1 else.  Not comin to bfast.  Busy._ **

 

**_Message to: Skeevy Pete    Sent: 0911_ **

**_Behave.  I’ll be there in 10 min._ **

 

Stiles slaps his hand over his face and groans when several new texts come in.

 

**_Message from: Scare-ica    Received: 0912_ **

**_You suck.  Now I have to go get juice._ **

 

**_Message from: Furface    Received: 0912_ **

**_Oh.  Ok.  Maybe next time?_ **

 

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 0901_ **

**_Me behave?  Never.  Hurry or I’m getting started w/o you, boy_ **

 

Stiles doesn’t respond to any of the texts; simply turns onto the street and speeds to Peter’s apartment.  He parks haphazardly and races up the stairs.  Before Stiles can even knock, Peter is opening the front door and pulling him inside without a word.  He grins at the werewolf and teases, “Oh, he-e-e-ey…good morning, skeevy Uncle Peter.”

Peter laughs, turning to head towards the bedroom.  He calls over his shoulder, “Shut up and get in here.”

Stiles chases after him, fully intending to leap on his back, yelping in surprise when Peter turns to catch him in mid-air.  He’s tossed unceremoniously onto the huge bed and is quickly stripped of his clothing.  It doesn’t take long before he’s screaming Peter’s name to the rafters.

Sex with Peter is…enthusiastic, to say the least.  Several hours later, Stiles is sporting some new bruises and a rather spectacular hickey on his chest.  “Is the biting, like, a werewolf thing?”

Peter rolls onto his back and looks towards him, “It can be.  Why?  Don’t tell me you don’t like it.  You moan like a wh-“

Stiles sits up, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.  I do.”  He reaches for his t-shirt and gasps when Peter wraps an arm around him, tugging him back into bed.  “I should go.”

“So soon?”

“Soon?”  Stiles laughs, “Dude, it’s almost three o’clock.  Besides, don’t you have stuff to do?  You know…coups to plan, nuns to seduce, murders to commit…you know, nefarious werewolf stuff.”

Peter laughs into his neck, “I already did my seduction for the day.  Several times, I might add.”

“Hmmm…true,” Stiles turns to look at Peter and grins, “plus you did do a great job of murdering my virginity.”

“See?  There you go.”  Peter drags his teeth over the cord in his neck and Stiles whines softly.  “You make such pretty noises.  They’re kind of addicting.”

Stiles is saved from responding by the ringing of his phone.  He pulls out of Peter’s arms to grab it from the nightstand, “Hey, Scott.  What’s up, buddy?”

_“Uh, thought I should warn you…we ran into your dad at the gas station and he thought I was with you?  Except, I didn’t know I was supposed to be covering for you so I told him I hadn’t seen you and now for some reason Derek’s upset.  So yeah, you have both your dad and Derek out looking for you.”_

“Uh, thanks for the heads-up.  I’ll uh, I’ll see you Monday.”  He hangs up and starts getting dressed.  Peter is sitting on the edge of the bed with a smirk on his face.  “What are you smirking at?”

“Nothing.  I just,” Peter waves a hand at him, "I understand why you lied to your _father_ but I'm a little surprised you felt the need to lie to my nephew."

Stiles arches a brow at Peter, coming to stand in front of him.  "Uh, because I didn't think Derek needed to know I was banging his uncle."

Peter pulls him forward by the waistband of his jeans.  Stiles settles between his parted knees, playfully swatting at Peter's shoulder when the werewolf goes to bite his nipple.  Peter chuckles and looks up, hands hands settling on Stiles' hips, "You ashamed of me, Little Red?"

Stiles snorts a laugh, "Awww, did the Big Bad Wolf get his feelings hurt because nobody knows we're fucking?"

"Of course not, silly boy.  Just found it curious.  That’s all."

"Mmmm okay.  If you say so."  Stiles pulls out of Peter's grip, fingers scratching through Peter's hair, "I'm gonna head out, Big Bad.  See ya when I see ya."

"Monday."

Stiles hedges, "We'll see.  I have an English test on Tuesday that I need to study for."

Peter comes up behind him and nips at the base of his neck, "Come here.  I'll help you study."

Stiles turns around and laughs in Peter's face, "Yeah right!  You know if I come here all we'll do is-"

"Come?"

Stiles narrows his eyes at Peter's smirk, "Exactly."  He leans to press his lips to Peter's, sighing when Peter turns so the kiss lands on his cheek.  Stiles pats the former Alpha on the shoulder and heads out of the bedroom.  He calls out as he leaves, "I'll call you, Big Bad."

Peter is suddenly right there, breathing in his ear, "You better."  His hands are tight on Stiles’ shoulders, “Don’t make me come looking for you, boy.”

An excited shiver courses through Stiles’ body and he doesn’t even bother to suppress it.  “I gotta go.”  Peter’s hands squeeze a bit tighter and finally release him.  Stiles pulls the front door open and turns towards him with a grin.  “Oh!  Just remembered something.”  He takes a step closer and whispers to Peter, “Be nice to your neighbor, Jerk-wolf.”  Stiles smacks a hand on Peter’s ass and slips away, just barely avoiding his grip.  He’s still laughing as he hurries downstairs to the lobby.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

“Soooo…you needed something?”  Stiles raises his brows expectantly, hand waving when Derek doesn’t say anything.  “Hello!  Earth to Derek!”

Derek looks up at his face and shakes his head, “Yeah.  I uh, was wondering if you could help translate some-“

Stiles interrupts him, “Lydia would be a better bet.”

“Huh?”

Derek looks up at him from where he’s flipping through an ancient looking book and Stiles points to the leather-bound tome, “I said that Lydia would be a better choice.  That looks like Latin and she’ll probably be able to translate it in a few hours.”

“Oh.”  Derek nods.  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“So, I’m gonna go.”  Stiles reaches for his hoodie and he’s in the middle of putting it on when Derek asks him if he’s okay.  “Uh, yeah.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

Derek shuts the book and pushes away from the table.  His brows furrow and he shrugs, “You smell…hurt.”  Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but Derek is still talking, “The past several weeks you’ve seemed different and I realized today what it is.”  He stands up and takes Stiles’ wrist in his hand, pushing the sleeve up past his elbow, the bruises on the inside of his forearm standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin.  Stiles pulls his arm back and tugs the sleeve down to his wrist, staring at Derek in surprise as he speaks, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Stiles, if someone is hurting you, you can tell me.”

Stiles laughs, “What?  You’re offering to be my Wolf in Shining Armor?”

Derek stands up, advancing on him, “I know there’s more.”  He reaches for him and Stiles backs away, zipping up his hoodie and shoving his hands into the pockets.  Derek’s face twists and he swallows hard, “When you came in today, you smelled like fresh blood.”  He looks away but Stiles catches the way Derek’s nostrils flare, “The copper smell is still there, but you’ve stopped actively bleeding.”

Stiles shakes his head, “You need to mind your own business, Derek.  This doesn’t concern you.”

Derek’s looks back at him and snarls, “The safety of _my_ pack _does_ concern me!”  His eyes are glowing red, “You’re under my protection and if anyone is hurting you, you need to tell me.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.  I’m _not_ part of your pack.  I’m _human_.  You can’t boss me around like one of your betas.”  He takes a breath and a small humorless laugh escapes him.  “This,” Stiles gestures to the bruises on his arm, “All of this?”  He unzips the hoodie and lifts his t-shirt, baring his abdomen and lower chest to Derek, “It’s all consensual, _Alpha_ Hale.”

Derek blinks, eyes lifting to Stiles in surprise, “Those are bite marks.  _Human_ bite marks.”

Stiles tugs the shirt down, “I know that!  Oh my god, Derek,” he flails his arms around and screams in exasperation, “I was there!”  Derek’s hands are fisted at his sides, chest heaving with the effort to control himself.  Stiles zips the hoodie closed once more and mutters sullenly, “Just mind your own business, Wolfman.”  Derek doesn’t say anything, so Stiles takes it as a dismissal.  He grabs his things and heads out, completely ignoring Derek when he calls out to him.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

“He totally called me on the bruises, you know.”

Peter looks over at him, “Who?  Derek?”

Stiles rolls onto his side, “Mmm hmm.”

They’re lying in Peter’s bed after yet another round of acrobatic sex.  Stiles is sporting fresh bite marks on the insides of both thighs and a few new bruises on his hips.  When he’d walked in, Peter had growled that he smelled like Derek and proceeded to replace the scent with his own.

“Did you tell him who gave them to you?”

Stiles laughs, “No.  I told him it wasn’t any of his business,” he lets Peter pull him closer and grins, “because it’s not.  He didn’t take it very well.”

Peter chuckles, flicking his tongue along the curve of Stiles’ collarbone, “I’m sure he didn’t.  Let me guess,” biting kisses trail down his chest to his abdomen, “I’m willing to bet that he pulled the whole ‘my pack, under my protection’ bullshit?”

“How did you know?”  Stiles groans at the feel of Peter sucking another mark onto his skin.  When he doesn’t answer, Stiles shoves at his shoulder, “Peter, how did you know?”

Peter looks up, eyes glowing blue.  He shuts them briefly, sighing as he rolls onto his back once more, “That’s just who he is.  In some twisted way, he sees you as his property.”

Stiles gapes at him, “I’m nobody’s property.”

“I know that.”  Peter waves a hand and lifts it to rub at his face, “He’s young and still thinks he needs to protect everyone in his pack.  Little does he know, you don’t need protecting, do you, Little Red?”

“Nope.”  Stiles runs his fingers through Peter’s hair, tugging the strands briefly.  “Can we please stop talking about Derek?”

Peter gives him a wolfish grin and disappears underneath the covers, “Great idea.”  Stiles arches up at the feel of lips wrapping around his dick, both heels digging into the bed as Peter takes him down to the root and swallows around him.  It doesn’t take long for Stiles to forget all about Derek and his overprotective tendencies.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Stiles scoffs, “So we’re what…just going to go in metaphorical guns blazing and not even bother with a plan?  Again?”  He stuffs another handful of popcorn into his mouth and props his feet up on the coffee table, completely disregarding the annoyed look Derek gives him.

“The kid’s right.” 

Stiles looks up at the sound of Peter’s voice and flips him off for his use of the word ‘kid.’ 

Peter smirks and reaches for the bowl of popcorn situated in Stiles’ lap.  “You know how much he _loves_ his little plans.” 

Stiles glares and shoves at Peter’s chest, moving the bowl out of his reach. 

The elder Hale laughs and flops down onto the couch next to Stiles, grabbing a handful of popcorn.  “Don’t be greedy, Stiles.  No one likes a greedy boy.”

Derek scowls at Peter’s choice of seats, but doesn’t say anything.  The pack meeting goes by quickly enough, Stiles pointedly attempting to ignore Peter’s attempts to rile him up and Derek glaring at them both when their whispered arguments get too loud.  Stiles takes out his cellphone and taps out a quick text.

 

**_Message to: Skeevy Pete    Sent: 1734_ **

**_Ur a menace! Quit!_ **

**_  
_ **

He smirks at the expression on Peter’s face when he reads the text.  Peter’s fingers fly over the screen and Stiles is already pulling up his texts when the message comes in.

 

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 1735_ **

**_How about you make me?_ **

****

Stiles rolls his eyes and sneakily flips Peter off, causing him to chuckle under his breath.  Derek turns around to scowl at them and Stiles holds up his hands, mouthing ‘sorry’ to him.  The Alpha turns back to his conversation with Isaac and Stiles carefully pulls up his contact list again.

 

**_Message to: Skeevy Pete    Sent: 1739_ **

**_Stop getting me in trouble! I swear, ur a child._ **

****

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 1742_ **

**_You like it. Besides, it keeps me young. So I can keep up with you._ **

****

**_Message from: Skeevy Pete    Received: 1742_ **

**_You coming over after this paltry excuse for strategizing?_ **

****

**_Message to: Skeevy Pete    Sent: 1744_ **

**_I should tell u no._ **

****

Stiles grins when Peter leans over and whispers in his ear, “But you won’t.”  He swallows a moan at the quick flick of tongue to his ear and elbows Peter roughly.  Peter snickers and sucks his earlobe into his mouth before pulling away and moving to his side of the couch.  When Stiles looks up, it’s to find Derek watching them.  Stiles squirms under his scrutiny and picks through the kernels left in the bowl as a distraction.

Once the meeting is over, Peter makes a show of standing up and leaving; gone without another word to anyone and Stiles heaves a sigh of relief.  He stands up and heads to the kitchen where Boyd and Isaac are rifling through the contents of the fridge.  Stiles empties his bowl into the trash, looking up when Derek comes up behind him, “We’re going to order pizza.  You’re welcome to stay.”  Derek clears his throat and adds belatedly, “You know, if you want.”

Stiles turns, shaking his head, “Nah, I should get home before my dad starts wondering where I am.”  He gives Derek a smile, “Thanks though.”

“Oh,” Derek gives him a tiny nod, “You’re right.  Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble or anything,” and if Stiles didn’t know better, he’d say that Derek looked… _disappointed_?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Twenty minutes later finds Stiles face down with his ass in the air, Peter shoving into him so deep it hurts.  His breath hitches at a particularly rough thrust.  Stiles chokes a sob and tries to move forward, but Peter pulls him back by his hips.  The sound of skin slapping on skin is filling the apartment and Stiles screams at the feel of Peter raking his human-blunt fingernails down his back.  He shakes his head and pleads softly, so focused on the feel of Peter slamming into him that he doesn’t hear the front door opening.  Nor does he hear the footsteps rushing down the hall towards the bedroom.

Peter covers his back and growls in his ear, “That what you needed?”

Stiles whines at the change of angle and nods, forehead pressing to the mattress, his ass canting up to receive the brutal shove of Peter’s hips.  “Y-yes.  Oh, fuck!”  His breath rushes out of him and he whimpers, voice near-breathless, _“Peter!”_

Peter licks the side of his neck, “Tell me what you want…what you need?”

One of his hands claws at the sheets and Stiles groans brokenly, “H-harder, _please_.”  Peter’s laugh rumbles over his ear, a dark thing, something that Stiles doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t care because in the next instant Peter is giving him exactly what he wants.  There’s a hand pressing down between his shoulder blades and Stiles sucks in a shuddering breath, a tiny laugh escaping him, “I  _knew_ ‘wolves could fuck!”

Peter’s thrusts ease, the hand disappears from his back and Stiles pushes up onto all fours, his head lifting heavily.  That’s when he sees Derek: standing in the doorway to the bedroom, eyes wide, nostrils flaring with each heaving breath.   Stiles opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Peter’s hands tighten on his hips, cock ramming exceptionally deep, and just like that Stiles is coming, screaming as his orgasm rockets through his body.  Derek’s eyes flare red and his face twists, but Stiles can’t look away; their eyes are locked together the whole time.  Peter pulls him up with an arm around his chest and mouths at the fresh bruises on his neck, hips lazily pumping into him as he fills him up, marking him from the inside as well as out.  Stiles is a mess of lube, sweat, and come, and yet the look he sees on Derek’s face is heartbroken as he turns away and races down the hall and out of the apartment.

Stiles pushes Peter away, wincing at the pull of muscles throughout his body.  He turns to glare at the older wolf and accuses, “You, you, you _knew!_ ”  Peter shrugs and lies back on the mattress, arms behind his head, completely at ease with his nakedness.  Stiles grabs his t-shirt from the corner of the bed, angrily pulling it on, “You bastard!”  He’s shaking so badly it takes him three tries to get his legs through his underwear and then his jeans.  Stiles sits on the chair near the window, jaw clenching at the jolt of pain that flashes up the back of his legs and higher.  He slips his shoes on and stands, voice tight with indignation, “You used me, Peter.  I never deluded myself about what we were doing, but to use me to hurt him?  That’s low, even for you.”

Peter sits up as Stiles comes to pick up his cellphone and keys from the nightstand.  He reaches for him and Stiles backs away, “Oh come on, Red, don’t be like that.”  Stiles snorts when he sees the pout on Peter’s lips and lets him him get close enough to lift his t-shirt with one hand, mouthing up his belly to his chest, tongue circling his nipple.  His voice is muffled against Stiles’ skin, “I never intended for him to find out like that.”

Stiles boxes Peter on the ear and pulls away with an incredulous laugh, “I don’t even _need_ werewolf powers to know you’re lying.”  He holds up a finger at the blue-glare of Peter’s eyes, “Don’t you dare.  We’re through.”  Stiles narrows his gaze and threatens, “You come near me again and I’ll make you wish you were dead.”  Peter glares at him for a few tense seconds and finally nods, his eyes bleeding back to human.  Stiles leaves the apartment and doesn’t look back.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

“If you wanted him you should have taken him!”  Peter snarls, shoving at his nephew’s chest, “He came to _me_ , Derek!  I didn’t force him.  He came _willingly_ and you have no idea how good he felt around me.”

Derek’s face shifts and he growls at Peter, “You knew what he meant to me!  And you did it anyway!”  He claws at Peter’s chest and roars, “We’re blood, supposed to be family, pack.”  Derek pulls away, face human once more, “Why would you do that when you…?”

Peter takes a step forward and all but spits at him, “Because someone had to show that boy just how it feels to have someone claim him, to have someone fuck him until he screams, until he bleeds.”

And that’s what does it.

Derek shifts and launches himself at Peter, claws wrapping around his throat, but Peter is ready for him, he catches him and rolls with the impact.  They’re scrabbling on the floor, snarling and biting at each other when the rest of the pack rushes in.  The betas struggle to pull them apart and Derek roars, half-shifting into his Alpha form before Erica slaps a hand on Peter’s nose and then Derek’s muzzle.  She all but bellows, “What in the _hell_ is wrong with you two?!”

Peter laughs, face human once more, “Why don’t you tell them, dear nephew?  Tell them how I did your job for you…better than you _ever_ could.”  Derek lunges at him and Peter only laughs harder, head thrown back in psychotic glee.  Boyd wraps his arm around Derek’s throat and shoulders.  Peter grins and takes a step forward, “You won’t, will you?  You’ll let them believe _whatever_ they want and all the while, you’ll suffer alone…just like you always do.  It’s pathetic.”

Derek’s chest is heaving with each breath.  Boyd’s arm is a mere inconvenience, but he allows the beta to hold him in place as he mutters resentfully, “Get out; all of you.”  Erica takes a breath, but Derek holds a hand up, “Just leave.”  She tilts her head at him and finally nods, taking the rest of the pack with her.  Derek collapses onto his knees the instant he can no longer hear their heartbeats.  He crumbles in on himself and once the first sob escapes, he can’t stop the rest.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Stiles can’t even begin to comprehend why he’s standing on the sidewalk in front of Derek’s loft, but here he is.  It’s been four days since Derek walked in on him and Peter, four days of uncertainty and embarrassment on his part.  He doesn’t regret any of what he did, but he _is_ sorry Derek found out that way.  The look on the Alpha’s face has haunted his dreams the past few nights and after Scott recounted the events that transpired in Derek’s loft later, Stiles finally mustered up the courage to drive across town.  His courage has only brought him this far; Stiles has yet to go upstairs and actually face Derek.  He takes a deep breath and enters the building, taking the stairs slowly, delaying the inevitable.  Stiles makes it to Derek’s floor and lifts his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can complete the motion.

Derek is standing in the doorway, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, “What do you want, Stiles?”

“I came to talk,” Stiles clears his throat, “figured we should after the other night, ya know?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Derek goes to shut the door and Stiles holds a hand up, “Just hear me out, okay?”  He swallows nervously when Derek looks up at him, brows lifting in obvious interest.  “What I did was stupid and I know that, but he didn’t force me…if that’s what you’re worried about.”  Stiles takes a breath and says in a rush, “I never intended for you to find out like that.  You have to believe me.  I wanted to tell you, really I did, but I didn’t want you to look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“The way you’re looking at me now.  Like you can’t stand the sight of me, like I’ve let you down,” Stiles swallows a pained noise and whispers, “like you hate me.”

Derek pulls the door open further and steps aside to let him into the loft, “I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

Stiles walks past him and crosses to stand in front of the windows.  His heart is hammering in his chest and Stiles knows that Derek can hear it, but he can’t seem to calm down.  He shoves both hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks back and forth on his heels.

The next time Derek speaks it’s from directly behind him, Stiles can almost imagine the feel of his breath on the back of his neck, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  Stiles turns to look at Derek, “Scott told me about the fight between you and Peter.”  Derek nods, but says nothing.  “Did you really go all Lon Chaney on Peter?”

His question startles a soft laugh out of Derek, “It was more ‘American Werewolf In London’ than anything else.”

Stiles’ brows lift, “Really?”  Derek nods and the words are out of Stiles’ mouth before he can stop them, “Show me?”

Derek stares at him for the longest time and doesn’t say anything.  He finally pulls his t-shirt off before bracing both hands on the table in front of him and bowing his head.  Stiles gasps at the shifting of muscle and bone under the skin of Derek’s back.  He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but it’s not what he sees.  Derek lifts his head and Stiles stumbles back at the sight of a muzzle in the middle of his face.  He sees Derek wince at his reaction and rushes forward, hands coming up to cup his face.  Derek’s eyes shut and he ducks his head in shame.

“Hey,” Stiles lifts his face up and pets a hand over Derek’s muzzle, “no need to be embarrassed.”  Red eyes lift to his and Stiles grins, “You have furry little ears.”  His fingers scratch behind the aforementioned appendages and Derek bares his fangs threateningly, “What?  They’re cute.”  A small growl rumbles out and Stiles leans to press a kiss on the tip of the Alpha’s nose, teasing gently, “Stop that.”  Derek shifts, the transformation amazingly seamless, startling a laugh out of Stiles, “Wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just…that was, like, CGI worthy.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “You’re an idiot.”

Stiles shrugs, “So, can I ask you something?”  Derek lifts a brow and Stiles takes it as permission, “What did Peter mean when he said that he’d done your job for you?”  Derek slips his t-shirt back on and avoids the question, but Stiles isn’t letting him get away that easy, “Scott says he meant about being Alpha, but I don’t think that’s it.”  He comes up behind Derek, one hand curling over his shoulder, “Tell me?”

“It’s nothing, Stiles.”

“I know that’s not true, Derek.  Just tell me.  Knowing Peter, it meant _something_.”

Derek sighs, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Derek…”

“Just leave it alone, Stiles!”  Derek crosses the room to get away from him, but Stiles follows.  He clatters up the stairs after Derek and continues trailing behind him, even when they end up in his bedroom.  Derek stops, “Stiles, you should go home.”

“Not until you tell me what Peter meant!”

“I’m not going to-“

“You’re so freaking stubborn.  You think you can do everything on your own, don’t you?  Big Bad Derek Hale doesn’t need anyone, right?”  Stiles shoves a hand in the middle of Derek’s back, “Well, you know what, Fuzzball?  You’re wrong!  No one can deal with all the shit life throws at them, not alone.  You need-“

 _Me_.

Stiles presses his lips together to keep from completing the thought.

Derek shakes his head, “Everyone around me gets hurt, Stiles.  It’s better if I just…”

“Just what?  Wallow in self-pity and loneliness?  No, Derek,” Stiles wraps a hand around Derek’s biceps and whispers, “no one deserves that.  Whatever Peter said-”

“Was the truth.”  Derek turns to look at him and shakes his head, the gesture resigned, “You’re right, you know.  Peter wasn’t talking about being an Alpha.”  Stiles drops his hand and lets him speak.  He’s a little surprised when Derek takes a step towards him.  His voice is quiet and excruciatingly sad, “It should have been me.”

Stiles frowns, “What?”

“I spent so much time terrified of rejection that he took advantage of it.  Peter knew how I felt about you and he…he’s the one that left all those marks on you, isn’t he?”  Stiles nods and Derek’s face twists.  “Why would you let him do that to you?”

“Why not?”  Stiles hates the tremble in his voice, but he’s not about to let Derek berate him for his choices, “No one else was even remotely interested in me!  So when he-“

“That’s not true!”  Derek is staring at him in shock, “ _I_ was interested!  I would have given anything to be the one that-“

“Then you should have _said_ something, you emotionally stunted moron!”  Stiles throws his hands up and groans in frustration, “How was I supposed to know you were interested?!  All you ever did was yell at me or threaten me, or, or, or ignore me, avoid me.  Derek all you had to do was say something, anything, and I would have…do you have any idea how long I waited for you?”

Derek grimaces and turns away. 

Stiles sees the look on his face and blinks back tears, “I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you, Derek.”  He backs out of the room, all but running to the stairs.

Derek’s voice makes him pause at the top of the stairs, “Stiles, wait.”  He shivers at the feel of Derek’s hands on his shoulders, “It’s not that you’re not good enough.” 

Stiles sniffs softly, his eyes fluttering shut at the light kiss to the nape of his neck. 

“You deserve better than an Alpha who can’t even take care of his own pack.  I’m a screw-up, Stiles.  I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and the rest of the time?  The rest of the time I’m worried that someone I love is going to get killed.”

Stiles whispers, “You’re not a screw-up.”  He reaches up to cover Derek’s hands with his own, “You’re human, like the rest of us.”  Stiles looks over his shoulder and smiles, “You just happen to turn furry on occasion.”

Derek smirks and shakes his head, “You deserve better.”

“Says you.”  Stiles takes Derek’s hand, interlacing their fingers, “I’ve done a lot of things I can’t take back.”

“Don’t.”

Stiles puts a finger on Derek’s lips, “Hear me out.”  Derek presses his lips together and nods.  “If we could go back, I would.”  He takes a deep breath and swallows his nervousness, “You wanted to be my first?” 

Derek nods. 

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”  Derek’s lips purse to kiss Stiles’ finger, “If anyone should be sorry, it should be me.  If I had spoken up sooner, your first time wouldn’t have been with _him_.”  Stiles traces Derek’s bottom lip as he speaks, “It should have been with someone that loves you, someone who…wasn’t just looking for a hole to fill.”

Stiles thinks back and chuckles, head shaking gently, “Want to know what you can be the first to do?”  Derek squints at him, but nods cautiously, “Kiss me?”  Derek’s eyebrows lift and he opens his mouth to speak and Stiles interrupts, “Better make it a good one, Hale.”

Derek cups his face in both hands and leans to press their lips together.  Stiles wraps both arms around his neck and Derek deepens the kiss, tongue gliding along the seam of his lips.  A tiny sigh bubbles out of Stiles and he parts his lips, eyes rolling back when Derek licks into his mouth.  The kiss takes his breath away and his arms tighten around Derek’s neck, fingers delving into his hair to scratch at his scalp.  He moans into the kiss, shivering when Derek’s hands smooth down his throat and chest, fingers mapping the shape of his ribs before reaching down to cup his ass and lower still.  Derek’s arms flex and suddenly, Stiles is being lifted up.  His legs instinctively wrap around the werewolf’s waist and he pulls back, breathless and slightly lightheaded.  Derek smiles up at him, “Good?”

Stiles laughs softly, “Better than good.  I might need another one to be sure though.”

Derek kisses the corner of his mouth and promises, “I think I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come visit me on [tumblr](http://annabethlemorte.tumblr.com/). Please be warned: Blog is NSFW.


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